


The Deluxe Tour

by AngelaSnape



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-24
Updated: 2010-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-11 05:59:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelaSnape/pseuds/AngelaSnape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy goes to Romania to learn about dragon-induced injuries, but gets distracted by a certain dragon handler along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Deluxe Tour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilyseyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyseyes/gifts).



> Written for Fall Fantasia at IJ, 2009.

**The Deluxe Tour**

  
The roar of the dragons seemed to come from everywhere at once. Draco Malfoy looked up at the sky, following the flight of the Romanian Longhorns' mating dance. Their golden horns glittered in the sunlight, and the sleek green scales covering their skin shone, as they flew circles around each other.

"Amazing to watch, isn't it?" The deep, masculine voice came from behind Draco; he turned to see a stocky, redheaded man standing behind him. "I'm Charlie Weasley," the man said, offering his hand in greeting.

"_A Weasley? Too bad. He looks like he'd be a brilliant shag,_" thought Draco.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," responded Draco politely, before he clasped Charlie's hand. A frisson of heat warmed Draco's palm, which he rubbed with his thumb when Charlie released his grip. Charlie's brown eyes flashed with something that suggested he'd felt – whatever it was – too.

Charlie cleared his throat before he asked, "Are you our latest apprentice, Draco?"

"No, I'm on a rotation from St Mungo's as part of my residency in the Healer Training Programme," replied Draco. "I plan to specialize in Creature Induced Injuries."

"Well, then," said Charlie with a sweep of his arm. "Allow me to conduct you on the grand tour. Bogdan will take your bags to the dormitory."

Draco gave his bags to the slim, black-haired man Charlie had called over, and then followed Charlie towards what looked like a very large barn – a first for any Malfoy, to be sure, but at that moment Draco was willing to follow Charlie anywhere.

  


____________

  
Holding the heavy, wooden door open, Charlie allowed Draco to enter the dining hall ahead of him. As Draco passed, Charlie caught a whiff of his scent – a spicy aftershave with underlying hints of musk. Desire coiled in Charlie's belly, and blood began to fill his cock. Charlie shook his head, in an effort to put those feelings away – now was neither the time nor the place for such things.

The dining hall at the dragon reserve was a big, open space that always reminded Charlie of Hogwarts' Great Hall. Long tables lined with benches ran the length of the room, and where the staff table might have been, there was a serving table laden with crusty loaves of bread, cauldrons of hearty stew, and an array of tempting sweets.

Charlie led Draco towards the food table and passed him a plate. "Eat your fill. You'll need the energy for the next part of the tour."

Draco sliced off a thick portion of bread, and ladled out a generous helping of beef stew. He waited while Charlie filled his own plate and then followed Charlie to an empty bench. Charlie slid into the seat beside Draco, and for a few minutes, they ate in silence. Occasionally, they would bump elbows, or Draco's thigh would inadvertently – Charlie thought – rest against Charlie's.

"So, what's on the next part of the tour?" asked Draco as he mopped up the gravy from his plate with his last crust of bread. "Just wondering if I should go back for seconds or skip right to pudding."

"That depends," responded Charlie. "How good are you on a broomstick?"

Draco's grey eyes darkened and his cheeks flushed a becoming pink. Charlie chuckled quietly as he decided to give Draco the deluxe tour.

  


____________

  
Draco raced after Charlie, the wind whipping his hair and his robes flying out behind him. If he'd thought the view of the Carpathian Mountains spectacular from the ground, it was indescribable when viewed from a broom. The blue sky seemed to stretch forever, unmarred by clouds as far as the eye could see.

Arcing to the left, Charlie took them around to the far side of the nearest peak. When Draco caught up to him, Charlie was hovering outside the entrance to a cave. Draco was about a metre to Charlie's left, and for a moment, all he could hear was the sound of their breathing.

"There's a Hungarian Horntail in there," said Charlie in a low voice. "The last time I was up here, her eggs were about to hatch. I need to check on them."

"May I come in, too?" asked Draco, who was trying to keep the hope out of his voice – and failing miserably.

"You wait at the entrance," replied Charlie, "and I'll call for you when it's safe for you to join me."

They glided a short distance into the cave and alighted from their brooms. Charlie handed Draco his broom before heading deeper into the cavern. Charlie's footsteps, as he entered the main room of the cave, were silent in the near-darkness. Draco carefully propped their brooms against the wall of the cave and leant against it, settling in to wait for Charlie's signal, even as he wondered at Charlie's obvious trust. "_A Weasley trusting a Malfoy with his broom?_" A dragon handler's broom was a necessary tool of the trade, after all, and if Draco had had any ill intentions towards Charlie, he could easily sabotage it.

Draco didn't have to wait for long before Charlie's Patronus – a wolverine – came to get him. When Draco's boots tapped against the stone floor, he cast a quick _Silencio_ to quiet them.

He gasped as he entered the dragon's lair – the Horntail was curled around her brood: three small dragons each about the size of a Kneazle lay intertwined at her belly. They were surrounded by the light that streamed from a hole high in the roof of the cave.

Motioning to Draco to come stand beside him, Charlie whispered, "The hatchlings appear to be doing well. My diagnostic spell showed no health concerns."

"How old are they?" asked Draco, fascinated by what he saw.

"From their size, I'd say they were hatched shortly after my last visit," said Charlie. "So, about a week old."

"They're beautiful," observed Draco – mentally, he added, "_You're beautiful, too_."

Charlie's expression changed – a brief flicker of _something_ that made Draco wonder if he'd said that last comment aloud. The moment passed, and Charlie headed back to the mouth of the cave. Draco followed, matching him silent footstep for silent footstep.

  


____________

  
"The dormitories are over there," Charlie pointed at a squat, stone building off by itself at the base of a hill. "I'll show you up to the guest room so you can get cleaned up a bit before dinner."

They chatted easily about dragons and the kinds of wounds they inflicted on their handlers as they crossed the grass between the broom shed and the dormitory. The guest room was up a narrow flight of stairs and consisted of a narrow bed and a washbasin atop a small chest of drawers.

"Er," began Draco. "I'd really love a shower, if that's possible."

"Of course," said Charlie with a grin. "Follow me."

Draco pulled a change of clothing and his shaving kit from his trunk, and hurried down the corridor after Charlie.

The bathroom had toilets in private stalls, but the showers were in a large common space at the far end. Clean towels were stacked on a bamboo rack beside a laundry hamper that presumably was used for soiled ones. The only thing separating the showers from the rest of the bathroom was a canvas curtain at the doorway. Draco noted the frayed edges of the fabric as he passed through the doorway.

Charlie stripped off his clothes, dropped them on a bench near the curtain, and stepped under the nearest shower, which had started spraying when he approached the wall. Draco gulped a little at the sight of the firm globes of Charlie's arse. A dragon tattoo danced over Charlie's shoulder blades; an Antipodean Opaleye, if the vivid red flame it was projecting over Charlie's spine was any indication. Charlie Weasley exuded raw power: Draco mentally listed the names of the muscles he was so admiring – _Latissimus dorsi, Trapezius, Gluteus maximus_ – in an attempt to control his arousal.

Charlie's biceps rippled as he shampooed his hair. A jolt of desire shot through Draco's abdomen and straight to his cock – it was all he could do not to moan aloud.

"What are you waiting for?" asked Charlie, looking at Draco over his shoulder. The Opaleye flipped its tail at Draco and disappeared from his view – it appeared to be headed towards Charlie's belly – and Draco restrained himself from trying to catch a glimpse of its destination. "Dinner's at six o'clock. You'd better hurry if you want to eat."

Draco tried for a moment not to think about exactly _what_ he'd like to eat, then gave up. He dropped his clothing on top of Charlie's and stepped under the shower beside him. He filled his palm with shampoo from the dispenser on the wall, and worked it into his hair before spreading the lather over the rest of his body.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Charlie back away from the shower spray, which stopped as he did so.

"Draco."

Charlie's voice was so low Draco questioned whether he'd actually heard the other man speak his name over the sound of the water.

"Draco."

Turning, facing Charlie, Draco willed himself to look him in the eye and not scan his muscular form for the dragon tattoo – or other, more interesting, things.

"Are you coming?"

"_Not yet_," thought Draco as his cheeks flushed. "Er—" Draco stammered, and his blush deepened as he felt his prick stiffen.

Charlie took a step forward and raised his hand, brushing against Draco's chin. "You missed a spot."

What Draco missed was the feeling of Charlie's fingers on his chin as soon as he'd removed them. In that moment, he didn't care that he was a Malfoy, that Charlie was a Weasley, or about anything other than the fact that he was alone with a gorgeous, naked man whom he desired.

Draco's breath hitched, and he leant forward to brush Charlie's lips with his own. Charlie groaned, snaking his hand around the back of Draco's neck; he nipped and sucked at Draco's lips, coaxing them open before exploring the depths of Draco's mouth with his tongue. Charlie tasted like the tea and cakes they'd had for pudding in the dining hall.

"Should we take this somewhere less public?" asked Draco, his voice low under the sound of the shower.

"Everyone else is at dinner," panted Charlie, grinding his hips into Draco's. "We shouldn't be disturbed."

Draco gripped Charlie's buttocks, and nipped at his lips before kissing a path down Charlie's body. He sucked on Charlie's Adam's apple, and worried each nipple to hard peaks. He dipped his tongue into Charlie's navel and then sucked the tip of Charlie's prick into his mouth. Charlie tasted faintly of the soap he'd used moments earlier, with an underlying musky flavour that was purely male. Draco dug his fingers into Charlie's arse in an effort not to begin pulling at his own weeping cock.

Charlie cupped the back of Draco's head and threaded his fingers into his hair, tugging at it. The pain helped distract Draco from his aroused state, and he moved one hand to the base of Charlie's prick. He squeezed gently as he sucked his way to the base and buried his nose in ginger curls. Draco swallowed around his mouthful, pulling another groan from Charlie's throat.

When Charlie started to pull away, Draco whined and tightened his grip on Charlie's arse, hollowing his cheeks as he continued to suck Charlie's sizeable cock.

"Gonna fuck you now," Charlie ground out, pushing a little on Draco's shoulders; Draco relaxed his mouth, and sat back on his haunches.

Draco's voice was hoarse as he looked up at Charlie and said, "Gods, yes."

"Come here," said Charlie as he dragged Draco up for another desperate kiss before turning Draco towards the tiles.

Draco leant on his forearms; the tile was cool against his skin even as the hot water streamed down over him. He gasped when he felt Charlie's calloused hands spreading his arse cheeks, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt Charlie's tongue lapping at his puckered hole. The tingle of a preparatory spell was all the warning Draco had before he felt the blunt head of Charlie's cock at his entrance.

Wanting, needing, unwilling to wait, Draco pressed backwards and urged, "Now, Charlie!"

One snap of Charlie's hips and he was fully seated in Draco's arse. He pulled back until just the head of his cock was still inside Draco, then thrust deep inside, over and over until Draco saw stars. Draco gripped his own prick, pulling in time with Charlie's rhythm until he was spurting white ropes of seed over the tiles. Moments later, Charlie shuddered behind him and collapsed on Draco's back.

For a moment, neither of them moved; Charlie remained draped across Draco's back while Draco panted against the cool, wet tiles. At some point, the water had shut itself off, but Draco could not remember it doing so. Charlie's now-flaccid cock slipped out from Draco's channel, and they slowly shifted positions, facing each other as they leant together against the smooth wall.

"That was…"

Charlie's stomach growled, reminding them that they had skipped dinner. Charlie grabbed a couple of towels, and tossed one to Draco. "Dry off, and we'll get some food. I have a feeling we'll be needing the calories later."

____________

  
Charlie watched as the slim form of Draco Malfoy vanished before his eyes. The Trainee Healer had finished his month-long rotation at the dragon reserve, and was returning to St. Mungo's via the wizarding train from Bucharest.

The Romanian Longhorns roared no more – the mating season had finished for another year. But by the next time they flew in their mating dance, Draco's residency would be complete, and Charlie was certain he could be convinced to return. He'd had to leave before the end of Charlie's tour, after all.


End file.
